Mascara tears
on porcelain
white skin.
Skeleton thin.
You sell sex
for heroin.
Dirt encrusted
nails bitten
to the quick.
Suck dick for a fix
as the tears scratch
themselves deeper in.
A festering heart,
loathing the skin
you pull on every day,
and the hurt keeps on rising.
as you look for release
any way you can.
Sick.
You give away
everything
for a fix.
Poison
bubbling away
within,
but you can’t kick
the urge,
the pull
to feel well when
the sickness kicks in.
Pinprick skin
as the needle sinks in,
spinning spirals
down to hell.
Angel wings
torn to shreds.
Feathers left muddied.
You give head
for a hit.
Walking through a pit
of self-loathing.
You get used to it,
you lie to yourself.
Another alleyway
another slice
of your infested heart
given away.
Get out you scream.
You can’t go back.
Get out you scream.
Spiralling through
the pavement cracks.
Get out you scream
to the demons in your head.
Get out you scream
like you did way back when,
fourteen years old back then,
struck down
by that man in your bed.
So many years gone
memories long dead,
but the alcohol
on his tongue
still hangs around
your neck like lead.
Get out
you scream
as in the throes of a bad dream.
Get out you scream
but you couldn't wake from that dream
and instead, you fled into the night,
into a new nightmare instead.
Thanks for reading
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Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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